


Making Waves

by flecksofpoppy



Series: Poppy's Adventures in Night Ficcing [13]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5909776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean tries to plan the perfect Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Based on anon prompt: "idk if ur still night ficcing but if u ever need a horrible prompt jean and marco being too excited to fuck on a waterbed but it's rly sill sex if they even stop laughing and making the bed jiggle enough to get that far"

“Oh my god.”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“You think it vibrates with quarters?”

There’s a startling boom as Jean catapults himself into the center of the bed.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

More to the point: it’s the first Valentine’s Day that Marco has spent with Jean as a couple, and somewhere in the high teens/low twenties for how many times they’ve spent February 14th together in general.

“It is!”

Marco laughs awkwardly, feeling the side of his mouth lift in that way that he doesn’t like, since he knows it makes him look unsure of himself.

“A waterbed? Is that legal on the second floor?”

Jean snorts obnoxiously and rolls his eyes so hard that it makes Marco laugh, but he still lingers at the door.

This whole “let’s get a hotel room thing” is new, and he’s still not sure how he feels about it. It’s what you’re “supposed” to do when you start dating—especially on what’s “supposed” to be the most romantic day of the year—but Marco is too busy trying to figure out how to navigate the new terrain between him and his best friend of decades... dating.

“Of course it’s legal,” Jean is replying, huffy and offended that Marco’s questioned his taste.

Oh yeah, he got the room.

This was sort of Jean’s idea.

And Marco doesn’t know if he actually likes it.

“Uh,” Marco says awkwardly, trying to remain cheerful as he looks down at his shoes, “that’s cool. I’ve never been on a waterbed before.”

Jean’s close suddenly, and at first, Marco is a little worried he’s going to keep up with the whole Mr. Don-Juan routine and “look how bouncy it is!” nonsense... but instead, he takes Marco’s hand almost shyly, and smiles a little. It’s subtle, and cautious, but it makes Marco immediately relax.

It’s a smile that he knows now is only for him.

“Come check it out,” Jean says, tugging at his hand.

And then Marco lets out a shout of surprise as Jean nearly tosses him toward the bed, stumbling a little as he’s pulled into the room, and then Jean’s behind him.

“Hey,” he says in a quiet voice, pressing up against Marco’s back, hands on his waist, “um... are you okay?”

Marco blinks and swallows hard, embarrassed that his nerves were so obvious.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, trying to reach for Jean’s hands. “I’m fine.”

There’s a short silence, and Marco’s heart speeds up with Jean hesitantly nuzzles the back of Marco’s head with his nose. It’s one of those gestures that’s so rare for Jean—so intimate for him, because he’s being painfully honest—and it puts Marco at ease.

“Jean,” he says softly, arching his back and feeling secure as Jean pushes against him in return.

“You smell good,” there’s a murmur into his ear, and then a kiss.

Marco suddenly feels tense again, caught between the weird Waterbed of Valentine’s Day Expectations, and Jean His Friend Who Now Dates him.

“Um, what do you mean?”

Jean sounds embarrassed at first, but he replies, “You smell like... that shitty aftershave from seventh grade.” Jean tenses, and then stills. “I mean...” he falters, and Marco smiles a little since Jean can’t see him, “you smell like... um...”

“I smell like seventh grade,” Marco echoes, turning around to face Jean. “I’m okay with that.”

When they kiss—just like the first time, only a month ago—it seems like everything melts away. Everything makes sense and nothing is awkward.

Marco is barely paying attention to where they are until his back hits the waterbed, and then suddenly, he’s aware again as both of them literally bob.

Not bounce. Bob, like a buoy.

“Oh my god,” Marco laughs, shaking his head, “this is so weird.”

“Hey!” Jean exclaims, rolling off Marco to rest on his side, grinning stupidly. “I paid a lot for this king size waterbed, so you know, we gotta have fun.”

“So, I guess no jumping on it?” Marco guesses, feeling a little immature and silly, since he thinks he knows what Jean wants to do on it.

But to his surprise, Jean just shrugs a little, looking down and not meeting Marco’s eyes. “I guess not,” he agrees. “Um, what do you want to do on it?”

“Uh, I thought you wanted to...”

Suddenly, Jean slaps his hand in the middle of it abruptly, his eyes wide as unseen ripples cause them both to bob up and down.

They just stare at each other, and then Marco bursts out laughing. “Did you really just... belly flop with your palm on the bed?”

Jean immediately grins, getting closer and laughing a little. “That was fuckin’ sweet. You should do it.”

“What, slap the bed?”

“Yeah!”

There’s a quick kiss pressed to his nose; a blush.

“Yeah, do it...”

_Slap._

“Oh my god, it’s like a boat!”

_Slap, slap, slap._

Marco is laughing so hard that he can’t breathe by the time Jean is done slapping the waterbed, and Jean is in the same state.

_Knock, knock, knock._

They both immediately go still, staring at each other as someone raps loudly at the door.

“Oh shit,” Jean mutters, biting his lip, “you think they heard us?”

Marco shrugs a little, but then rolls his eyes. “How could someone complain? We’re on the bed.”

Jean grins, pulling himself up to sit on the edge, and winks. “Yeah, and it’s Valentine’s Day, right?”

Marco swallows hard, and immediately looks down at the ugly, paisley comforter. “Um,” he says awkwardly, hating the feeling that rushes back into him from before, “guess so.”

_Knock, knock._

“God, I’m coming!” Jean hisses, stomping over to the door.

The door opens, and Marco immediately retreats onto the bed, feeling self-conscious even though he’s still wearing all his clothes.

But somehow, his lack of socks even makes him feel vulnerable.

“Oh!” Jean says from just around the corner. “Great!”

There’s a squeaky sound, and then Marco wants to just hide under the floor as a cart rolls in with actual roses on it, and some kind of room service meal.

“Thanks!” Jean enthuses as the attendant just stands there after wheeling it in, staring at him.

Jean just stares back, and then scowls. “What?” he exclaims suddenly, throwing his hands up. “What is your problem?”

Marco feels mortified, pulling himself up to the edge of the bed to stop Jean from embarrassing himself further.

“Yeah, you know what?” Jean continues, ranting at this point. “I’m gay, and I’m gonna fuck my boyfriend on this waterbed!”

When Marco slips two dollars into the hand of the room service attendant, he immediately slips out, looking mortified.

Jean looks down, his face bright red, and Marco walks over to curiously pick up one of the covers.

It’s some kind of chicken dish; Jean spent a lot.

“Oh, he meant...”

“It’s okay,” Marco says softly, replacing the cover on the platter. He smiles a little, getting closer and placing his hand on Jean’s shoulder.

“That was so fucking embarrassing,” Jean replies, shaking his head and turning away. “Um... okay, whatever. Happy Valentine’s Day?”

He walks over to the window, his head hanging and his shoulders hunched, and he looks out over the parking lot of the hotel.

It’s nothing romantic—just a hotel for a night in their suburban metropolis—but Marco feels a pang when he can see the reflection in the window of Jean’s face.

He looks hurt, embarrassed, nervous.

Ring, ring, ring.

The hotel phone is shrill, and Marco dives for it, needing a distraction since he doesn’t know what to do.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Kirschstein? We have a problem with your credit card.”

When Jean turns abruptly at the sound of phone, Marco just shrugs and rolls his eyes, mouthing, “Front desk?” He gives an awkward smile, pointing at the food, hoping that means something that will deter Jean from further questions.

“Oh?” Marco replies when Jean finally turns back around to look out the window. “Really?”

“It’s been denied.”

Marco makes a dismissive sound. “Strange! Must be a mistake! I’ll come down.”

As soon as he hangs up the phone, Jean immediately questions him. “What was that?”

Marco, who is generally a pretty terrible liar, is proud of himself as he smoothly replies, “They realized that I’m allergic to nuts. Did you actually remember to... check that off on the menu requests?”

Jean’s face softens a little, and Marco feels his heart speed up once again.

“Duh,” is the soft response. Nothing else.

Marco smiles a little as he gets up to put on his shoes, and suddenly, wants nothing more than to get back to Jean.

The elevator takes forever, and once he gets in, he suddenly feels self-conscious about the fact that he’s wearing shoes without socks and sweatpants to boot.

“Lazy night,” he says awkwardly, smiling radiantly. To his relief, she immediately looks at ease.

Thank god for freckles.

The front desk is sparse, and there’s only one woman there snapping gum, looking irritated at what is nearly midnight.

“Your credit card, Mr. Kirschstein,” she says, “it looks like it got denied. I don’t know why it only happened now.”

Marco smiles a little, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own credit card. “Oh, no problem! It’s... well, it’s Bodt. I’m still going by my... unmarried name. So, use this one.”

“Oh!” she exclaims, grinning with a look of approval, and almost envy. “You two are newlyweds? Well, no wonder! If you had a name change, it happens all the time.”

Marco just continues to smile as the card is swiped through the reader, and he signs.

He wonders what it would be like to sign Marco Kirschstein, or Marco Kirschstein-Bodt, or any other variation.

The fact is, he thinks it actually would be okay.

“Thanks!” he says brightly as he’s given the receipt.

The elevator ride back up is uneventful, and so is the walk back to the room; although Marco really hopes Jean still isn’t staring out the window pensively.

The door opens with his keycard, and suddenly, he sees Jean looking sheepish.

The reason being, the TV is on, Jean is obviously naked under the covers, and he’s eating a piece of chicken off a hotel plate.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, starting and practically spilling food everywhere. “They just called and said you were waiting...”

Marco shrugs a little, kicking off his shoes; nothing has never looked so good than Jean, sitting in bed, eating chicken.

“You got some of that for me?” he asks, clicking the lock into place on the door and kicking off his shoes and dropping his pants carelessly.

Jean watches in surprise as Marco pads over to the bed in just his boxers and a t-shirt, and blushes slightly.

“Um,” he says, placing the plate on the nightstand and pulling the covers up over himself further, “you know I’m not wearing clothes, right?”

Marco smiles a little. “Do you want me to put the do not disturb sign on the door knob?” He’s not sure what answer the question will get him, but he can’t think of anything else to say.

Jean just stares, the blue light of the television flickering off his features strangely, and Marco bites his lip.

Suddenly, an alarm goes off, and Jean curses under his breath as he fumbles for his phone on his side of the bed.

“It’s Valentine’s Day officially,” he says, shaking his head as he shuts off the alarm, his body moving up and down slightly from the wave of the waterbed. “Sorry, um, we got a discount for staying here the night before.”

And it finally occurs to Marco: Jean is scared, embarrassed, trying to be cool the same way he acted in high school—in seventh grade, with his crushes.

But in reality, eating chicken when he thought no one was looking in bed, watching TV.

All the reasons Marco loves him that Jean may never understand. But that’s okay, as long as he knows the reasons he loves Marco back.

“Is it okay if I get naked too, and eat that chicken?”

Jean just gives a choked response, staring openly, but nods.

“Wow,” Marco remarks as he sidles up next to Jean, their bare legs tangling under the sheets, “this waterbed thing is pretty cool.”

There’s a silence and Marco eats his chicken, the TV playing some stupid show that neither one of them are watching, and then when he’s half-asleep, he feels Jean kiss the top of his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice rough and apologetic. Marco stays quiet, though. “This was supposed to be...” he sighs heavily, “normal. Like a regular couple.”

Plates are carefully taken away, everything replaced on the cart, and then Jean turns off the light as he settles with Marco into the giant waterbed, TV still playing.

“I had fun,” Marco murmurs, reaching up to touch Jean’s shoulder. “I... Jean?”

Jean sounds a little froggy as he replies, “Yeah?” His fingers tangle in Marco’s.

_Slap, slap, slap._

“It’s bouncy.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

Marco grins, kisses Jean, pulls him down, and pulls the sheets over their head.

“You know what?” he asks, pushing his hand up into Jean’s hair, smiling.

“What?” Jean replies breathlessly, curling around Marco.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Jean murmurs, but kisses Marco’s forehead. “God, you are...”

“Shut up, Jean.”

“But...” Jean says sleepily as he smiles against Marco’s shoulder, fingers twined in soft brown hair, “aren’t you supposed to want to fuck like animals on a waterbed?”

Marco snorts as he replies, “No,” stroking down Jean’s back and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “I think this is what you’re supposed to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a tumblr.](http://flecksofpoppy.tumblr.com/) c:


End file.
